


This Has Become a Journey

by spirogyra



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: AU, Adventure, Diablo 3, Fantasy, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 06:09:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirogyra/pseuds/spirogyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermann is quite prepared to bring down the mad Skeleton King Leoric all on his own, but a crazy little demon hunter named Newt insists on tagging along. One thing leads to another, and what started out as helping a small town turns into saving the entire world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Has Become a Journey

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't a straight narrative. It's a bunch of scenes that follow the Diablo 3 plot, but I've cut out most of the endless killing of monsters and collecting of loot. This effort is entirely self-serving; I did it because I just like Diablo 3, and Hermann and Newt that much.
> 
> I considered adding other characters, but decided against it to avoid things getting muddled. (Tendo the witch doctor, Mako the monk and Raleigh the barbarian.)

**\--- [The Weeping Hollows] ---**

Hermann had just crossed the bridge out of town, stepping foot into the ominous wilderness of the Weeping Hollows, when someone came vaulting up from behind him, boots stopping in the mud directly next to him..

"What's up?"

There was no hiding the disdain from his face or voice as he looked at the sudden appearance of the demon hunter in his ridiculous red scarf. "Who are you?"

"Call me Newt." He stuck out one gloved hand, holding his ridiculously large crossbow in the other.

Hermann shook it gingerly, refusing to be impolite even if he didn't like the look of this man. "Hermann." A crossbow and a quiver full of arrows, whatever kind of sense that made.

"Pleased to meet you. You on your way to the royal crypts? There's some talk about a cursed crown from the villagers."

Holding said cursed item, Hermann said, "This crown?"

"That's it! Great! Let's go do this!"

So it seemed Hermann was stuck with the demon hunter for the time being.

**\--- [Royal Crypts] ---**

"What in blazes are you doing?" Hermann shouted as Newt went vaulting into the middle of the room where all the crypts were opening and spilling forth animated skeletons.

With a cheery 'whoop!', Newt started to open fire, slowly turning in a circle and reducing every skeleton, tomb, vase, and candelabra in his line of sight into splinters and dust until the room was empty of pretty much everything.

Hermann was ducking in the corner, his diamond skin shining brightly around him. "What is wrong with you? I could have been killed!"

"No way. You ducked."

**\--- [Chamber of Suffering] ---**

Newt sat down cross-legged next to the massive corpse and pulled his battered leather journal out.

"Really, is this the time?"

"Absolutely! This is, like, my job. Look at the size of this guy! Biggest demon I've seen so far."

Hermann snorted and began sorting through the assorted items that littered the corners of the room, remains of previous, less skilled adventurers. He tucked any items of interest into his bag while casting infrequent glances at Newt.

He was fully engrossed in the corpse of the monster and jotting things down in his journal.

Good for him, but Hermann was sweating rivers down his back in the heat, and was more than ready to move on. "Do you want to look through any of this?"

With a flourish, Newt finished writing and snapped the journal shut. "Yeah, gimme three seconds."

It was more like three minutes, but Newt had a very good eye, and was able to sort through things faster than Hermann had. "Let's go!" he said even as he was polishing the amulet he had grabbed.

**\--- [Howling Plateau] ---**

Somehow, this simple mission of killing mad undead King Leoric turned into just the first step of a journey. A _journey_. They'd taken the first important step together, with the clearing of the crypt and hearing things they started to believe they shouldn't have, and from then on there was no refusing to take the road ahead. And there was no reason to do it alone, not when they were heading to the same place, with the same goal in mind.

Newt snorted and smiled briefly. "I don't even know what it is," he said as they walked through the wind-swept desert. "None of it adds up. We start with killing a skeleton king, which is pretty straightforward in my book, and now we're here."

But Hermann was barely listening to him. He had a cloth pulled over his mouth and nose to protect from the blowing sand, and his attention was on the rocky cliffs in the distance. If that wasn't the perfect place for some kind of ambush, he'd eat his shoes. They'd encountered little other than bones on their walk through the desert so far, but that didn't make him feel any more secure.

There were scavengers out here. He knew it.

"Bunch of cultists burning down a village, summoning demons, khazra stealing a staff that they can't even use, a freaking _angel_ that's lost his memory… I need someone to tell me how all this works together, be-"

"Quiet! Don't you see, there could be creatures waiting in those rocks?"

"Oh yeah, there definitely are."

Hermann stopped walking and stared at Newt. "What?"

"Yeah, there's like six or seven up there. I saw some when we came through the canyon, but they stayed up top. They're fast too."

"You knew, and you kept just blithering on about _nothing_!"

"It's not nothing! It's where we're going! I thought that was kind if important, you know? Maybe understand what we're up against, since this isn't just some village with a skeleton problem, or cultists in bad hats. Hermann, we found an angel. We gave him back his righteous sword. Do you have any idea what this means?"

"It means you're not listening to me. When did you plan on telling me about the ambush?"

"Uh, I guess I didn't. We can handle it." Newt shrugged. "It's fine, besides, we should be more worried about those lizards under the sand coming at us right now."

"What!?"

Newt vaulted backwards, instantly propelling himself ten yards away from Hermann, and had his crossbow up and ready to fire.

For a moment, Hermann didn't move, only just seeing the ripples in the sand and the flash of dark scales appear for a moment beneath it. Then he was sprinting back to where Newt was positioned, feeling the spray of sand hit him in the back as the beast surfaced where he'd been standing a second before. He dove to the side, knowing what Newt was going to do just as he unleashed a stream of magical bolts at the monster.

Newt whooped (something he did after almost every kill) and vaulted (unnecessarily) to his right, kicking up sand as he tumbled away. When he was standing on two feet, he turned fluidly to where he'd been standing and began firing even before the giant lizard surfaced.

The thing was dead before it was even fully out of the ground.

Hermann was just starting to get to his feet when Newt vaulted to his side and helped him. "Why do you carry a quiver of arrows with you? You don't use them. Or any kind of ammunition."

"Never know when I might need them. Better to be prepared, right? Now..." He pulled out his journal.

"Right here, in the middle of a sandstorm?"

"Just some quick notes."

Hermann sighed and stood behind Newt to watch his back.

**\--- [Ruined Cistern] ---**

"Shit! Hermann!" The things had come crawling from the drainage pool, caught them unaware from behind. Newt was always at the point, so Hermann had suffered the majority of their attack.

He had cried out in surprise and then pain, and as Newt turned, there was a sickening crunch as one hit Hermann and sent the man flying.

Newt's hands were a blur as he threw out a handful of caltrops, then pulled out and threw in one smooth motion a fan of knives into the incoming creatures. He vaulted backwards, then pushed backwards and slid on one foot, firing his crossbow. Two of the creatures fell, then exploded in a cloud of sickly green gas. More caltrops, then he pulled out his bolo, taking a precious moment to spin it then throw, wrapping one creature up before the thing exploded. Another vault backwards and Newt was standing next to Hermann, lying motionless on the wet stone. Grenades this time, hurling three in quick and deadly accurate succession.

"Hermann, are you OK? Come on, buddy, talk to me." He kneeled down over the man, but was afraid to touch him in case he made things worse. "Shit, damn." He fumbled with his pack and pulled out the most potent healing potion he had (one he'd distilled himself from what he'd never tell Hermann because the man would refuse to drink it). "Here, have a sip of this."

Hope against hope really. Hermann hadn't moved, hadn't opened his eyes, hadn't made a noise.

Newt opened Hermann's mouth and trickled the deep red liquid in. A small sigh of relief as he swallowed automatically, and Newt repeated the action. Almost half the bottle was gone before Hermann's eyes fluttered open.

"What happened?"

"You got thrown against a wall, and we need to get out of here. Can you walk or do you need more potion?"

The face Hermann made was something of a relief, all him and his grouchy uptightness. "Please no. It tastes like stagnant pond water."

Newt laughed with relief. "Here, let me help you up." He helped Hermann to his feet, but as soon as they took a step, the wizard crumpled and grabbed his leg.

"My leg," Hermann gasped, gripping his right thigh. "It's numb. I don't think I can walk on it."

"Lean on me. We'll get back to surface level." No idea what they'd do then, but handle it when they got there.

 

Three days in that dank chamber, surrounded constantly by the noise of rushing water, while Newt forced Hermann to drink some of the potion every day.

"It's disgusting."

"But how does your leg feel?"

Hermann sighed. "Better. I think I'm ready to go, as long as you don't go vaulting off again."

"Nope, won't leave you behind again."

**\--- [Bastion's Keep] ---**

They'd sealed the breach and burned Ghom out from the larder, then returned to the barracks both utterly exhausted. They ate in silence with the soldiers, who looked slightly less hollow-eyed knowing the keep and their food supply was safe for the time being. The stone walls still shook from the assault of demonic war machines, but for the moment they could breathe.

The next morning they'd be going forward onto the battlefields, to cross the bridge of Korsikk, and thwart Azmodan's siege. Just the two of them.

It was Hermann who made the first move, on their way back to their rooms (generously given to them because of their defense of Bastion's Keep and their dangerous mission). He took hold of Newt's hand and led them to his own room. Once inside, he bolted the door, leaving no doubt of his intentions. The closer they got to finally defeating the lords of Hell, the more sure Hermann became that they wouldn't survive the next night, so this…

This was his last night.

Now holding on to Newt's scarf, winding it around his hand until they were just a single step apart, he smiled tentatively.

Newt returned the smile, wide, guileless, and open. "Not that I'm saying no, because I'm not, but why now?" He was more forward, taking hold of the hanging end of Hermann's sash and tugging on it.

"If you haven't noticed, it's looking rather dire out there. This may be our last night alive, and I decided I wanted one last thing before I die."

Newt was still smiling, closing the distance between them in fractions of inches by pulling on the sash. "But since we're so awesome, we're going to survive, and then tomorrow night might be our last night alive."

Now that they were close enough that Hermann's hand was resting on Newt's shoulder, he made a thoughtful noise. "Then I guess I'll have one last thing to do before I die."

"Night after that?"

"One last thing."

"Night after that?"

Hermann leaned forward to reduce the distance between them to zero and kissed Newt.

And while Hermann was fine with the kissing, just tasting Newt and exploring his mouth, Newt's very clever and quick hands were undressing Hermann without once breaking the contact to see what he was doing. The sash and belt dropped, the large topazes adorning it glittering in the low candle light. Then the tie of Hermann's white breeches was undone so that they slithered down his legs.

But Hermann's reaction was immediate to that, shivering in the cold air of the stone keep. "Here," Newt said, noticing for the first time that his breath was visible, and pulled back the heavy fur blanket on the bed. "Until we can warm up."

With much reluctance, Hermann released Newt's scarf and sat on the edge of the bed. Reluctant to let go, but also not because of what it was leading to. He removed his boots and breeches, then started on his vest and shirt. Every article of clothing lost meant it was that much colder in the room, until he was down to just his undershirt and pants, and he slipped under the blanket. There was an advantage to this though, and that was getting to watch Newt undress, unclasp all those buckles, undo the harness, slowly peel off that scarf to reveal his neck and throat, and all the while those haunted green eyes watched him.

"Whatever happens tomorrow," Newt said as he removed his leather vest finally, "we had a good run together, right? Really good."

"We did. I-I won't be ashamed to die at your side."

The boots, the strap across his right thigh, the belt, then the hooks and ties of his pants and they were on the floor.

"How long does it take you to get dressed with all that?" Hermann asked, his heart hammering in his chest as Newt was reduced to a thin undershirt and long pants.

"You'll get to find out, won't you?"

Hermann lifted the edge of the blanket.

Newt blew out the candle before he slid into the offered space.

 

"If we weren't here, would you have ever made a move on me? I mean, you've been giving me eyes since Dahlgur oasis, right?"

"Yes. About Dahlgur oasis. I'm not sure otherwise. I normally prefer to keep to myself."

"Heading to the crypts all alone? Yeah, I figured that much. Even for someone as smart as you, a wizard down in that place, alone, was gonna be rough. But I wore you down finally?" Still under the warm blanket, Newt's hand worked its way beneath Hermann's undershirt. "Most people bail on me before I can do that to them." Newt himself was completely naked and had one leg over Hermann's, caressing his ankle with his toes.

Hermann made a humming noise somewhere between thoughtful and pleased, and let his eyes close. "It was the waterfall."

"Ohhh, yeah, that. I was sure you'd be pissed at that."

"I was. But you are quite a vision when you are soaking wet, especially in leather; how could I stay mad? And then sitting around the fire waiting for it to dry." They'd both politely averted their eyes while they sat naked at the fire, but gazes wandered.

At that Newt laughed. "I look like a drowned mouse!"

"And I a drowned weasel, so we have that in common."

"I've worked with weasels before, well, ferrets, and they don't look anywhere near as good as you do when they're wet." He made slow circles with the flat of his hand over Hermann's chest. "I saw you eye-fucking me."

"Well, that was… I was just-"

"Yeah, I saw it cuz I was doing the same to you." Newt grinned and kissed the underside of Hermann's jaw. "I was hoping we'd have to huddle together for warmth while we slept, but then our clothes dried. Could you tell how disappointed I was?"

"D-don't. I can't go into this thinking of those things."

"This?"

"I can't have my mind on you while fighting for the fate of the world. And all I want to do right now is think about you. Out there, I'll worry endlessly about you and your recklessness."

"I'm a demon hunter. It's what I do. I've been in worse situations and come out richer for it. I'm going to be worried about you the entire time, because you seem to think it's fine to just stand there and let serpent guards and hellions beat on you without defending yourself!"

"I'm helping you!"

Newt pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Hermann's lips, persisted with it until it was reciprocated. "I don't want to have to worry about you." He smiled against Hermann's mouth. "You're fragile."

"We make a fitting pair then."

**\--- [Heart of the Cursed] ---**

"Hermann, I think she was flirting with you."

"I don't think it truly counts as flirting if she plans on killing me."

"Ah well. She wasn't too bad looking for being half spider."

"Is this what being a demon hunter does to someone? You start finding demons not too bad looking?"

Newt was sketching, and the picture was coming out very flattering of the dead demon. "Hey, concubine of sin and maiden of lust has to mean _something_ , even if she's totally not my type." With a grin, he looked up at Hermann. "You could totally be my maiden of lust, except you are not a maiden in any way, shape or form."

"Should I be flattered or insulted?"

"Flattered, of course! Come on, Hermann, how is calling you a maiden of lust insulting?"

"Look at her!"

Newt rolled his eyes. "Fine, you're not my maiden of lust, which makes you just… my wizard of-"

"Do not speak."

"No nicknames. Fine. You're not very much fun all of a sudden. I need to get you back to bed to improve your mood."

Hermann was silent at that, his expression pinched, and Newt grinned at him.

**\--- [Bastion's Keep Watchtower] ---**

They reached the top of the stairs just in time to hear Adria's declaration about Leah's parentage.

"Sex with Diablo," Newt whispered. "That's worth studying."

"Hush!" Not that Hermann needed to say it, because the rush of energy, dark and foreboding and dangerous that swelled around Leah was like a nightmare typhoon. It swirled around the parapet, consuming the bodies of the slaughtered soldiers, avoiding Tyrael and the white glow from his sword, while the sound of a thousand damned souls shrieking filled the air.

Hermann and Newt ducked back down, faces pressed against the stone so they were out of sight. They stayed that way, shivering against one another until the noise and chaos ended abruptly above them. When they looked up, other than Tyrael and the ritual markings painted in blood, the platform was empty. Adria and Leah were gone.

What was left of Leah.

"Come," Tyrael commanded, and held out his sword. It glowed even more brightly, and the tip bit into the fabric of the air itself. He drew a line from the ground up to a point over his head, and it split open in a sucking gush of divine energy. "Diablo's gone to attack the High Heavens. If he reaches the crystal arch, he'll be able to destroy _everything_. Take the portal so we may mount a defense."

"A counter-assault," Newt said, his voice coming out in a breathy rush that sounded like awe.

Tyrael nodded once.

Before Hermann could say or do anything, Newt was on his feet and running toward the portal. "Come on, Hermann! No time to waste!" He paused, a fevered, manic glint in his eyes. "Portal to Heaven. Sounds legit, right?" And he stepped through.

**\--- [The Pinnacle of Heaven] ---**

They stood in front of the ornate doors fifty feet high with the only sound the hum of what could only be described as _divinity_ around them. Hermann could feel the thrumming of evil energy beyond them.

"You ready for this?"

"As much as one can be." Hermann's grip was white-knuckled and sweaty on his staff.

Newt grinned. "So not at all?"

"Not at all."

In the silence (other than that hum) Newt moving made the delicious sound of creaking and stretching leather. That noise in combination with the kiss he was giving Hermann made him wish they had maybe one more night before this.

"You think angels care about us making out in Heaven?" Newt asked in between a series of wet and sloppy kisses since Tyrael was there, watching them carefully.

Hermann replied, also between each moment of shared contact, "I think if we destroy the seven great evils, we get license to make out wherever we wish." He pulled back even while he held possessively onto the harness across Newt's chest. "Shall we go?"

"Let's go kick this bitch in the dick."

"Well, that seems somewhat illogical, but the sentiment stands. Let's do it."

They walked side-by-side through the doors.

**\--- [The Crystal Arch] ---**

The angels held their hands high, and the smoldering corpse of Diablo rose into the air. It floated, leaving a black cloud of smoke that stunk of brimstone, to the edge of the platform. Slowly, it moved out into open space, nothing but the impossible distance to Sanctuary far below, and then it plummeted. It was little more than a blackened hunk the size of a fist before it disappeared into the layer of clouds that separated the two realms.

The realization that they'd actually succeeded struck, and with a whoop (this one wholly appropriate), Newt hugged Hermann.

The boiling black clouds overhead began to dissipate, and where they parted and sunlight fell, the structures around them were restored. Demonic corpses burned away to nothing; the vaulted door and walkways, statues and arches all returned to their gleaming white state. What had looked to be completely destroyed before was whole again.

"Tyrael," Hermann said, watching as the angel was gradually bathed in golden light, "shouldn't you return to your angelic form?"

Without looking at them, Tyrael said, "I shall return to be with my brothers, but this time as a mortal. I will be the wisdom they've lost. There will be no more rivalry with the nephalem. Forevermore we shall stand together, angels and men, in the light of this glorious new dawn." He was lit with the sun's golden glow, looking strong, not because of any angelic power, but because of his strength of conviction and renewed hope. He stood, framed in the doorway by sunlight for a moment, then stepped out, leaving Newt and Hermann blinded by the piercing light.

When they regained their vision, blinking away the spots, they were sitting on smooth white tile, patterned with gold and blue. The crystal arch rose above them, white and pure once more.

"Holy shit, Hermann! Your clothes!"

"Yours as well, Newt." He ran his hand down the front of Newt's now-pure white harness and doublet. Even his red scarf had been turned white, all traces of grime and ichor gone. Even the tiniest scars had been healed, leaving his skin flawless (because Hermann had never considered those freckles to be an imperfection).

"Are we dead?"

"I don't believe so."

"So we did it? We did it for real." The expression on Newt's face was slowly dawning joy as he looked into Hermann's eyes, his hand holding on to his white sleeve.

"We did."

"So… no more last nights then."

The look on Hermann's face that had been similarly joyous, fell. "I suppose not." He looked away, and removed his arm from Newt's touch. "Yes, well, I…" No words.

"You know… Demon hunting's pretty dangerous. I've had lots of close calls." Newt put his hand on Hermann's leg. "Even with a partner, it's still no vacation. Some of them are really big, and have big teeth, and big claws, and… are really big." With a huff of frustration, Newt tugged Hermann's hood to get him to look at him. "Dude, please read between those very well-spaced lines."

"No. I'm not reading between lines now. Just tell me, Newt. First you say something that implies that we should part ways, and then you suggest vaguely that we shouldn't. So which is it?"

Newt answered immediately, no doubt or hesitation in his voice. "We shouldn't. I don't want to. We should be partners in demon hunting and helping little villages, and rescuing angels, and saving the world. And then at night, I want to go to sleep, wherever I am, with you there looking out for my back. That plain enough for you?"

Hermann turned finally, looking very serious. "Are you serious?"

"Super."

With a groan, his knees popping, Hermann started to stand, using his staff to brace himself. Newt took his hand when offered. "Super serious?"

"Absolutely. More serious than super. But can I say that right now, I want to go to an inn, get a room for a week and not leave it. With you in it too, because you look really fine in white. And something to eat. And something to drink, so I can get very drunk. And-"

"Point made. Let's return to Sanctuary." Hermann pulled out a tiny scroll.

"A scroll? Wow, you're really old school." With that said, Newt hooked his arm around Hermann's waist, held his hand out in front of him like he was presenting someone unseen a gift, and they disappeared in a flash of blue light.

The great evils were gone and the black soulstone was in Tyrael's care, but the Burning Hells were made from the evil that existed before the universe itself. Sanctuary was safe, the High Heavens were safe, but to think it was the end of evil…

Newt and Hermann would take their week, and then they'd continue on, waiting for the next great evil to rear its head.

**Author's Note:**

> I debated mightily whether to include a semi- to completely graphic sex scene, and went without to finish this faster (because I have other stories I need to finish). I will do my best to answer any questions regarding what the hell I'm talking about in the story, because even though it makes total sense to me, I have put a couple hours into playing Diablo 3 and have lost perspective on what makes sense in that game. (Newt vaulting everywhere makes me grin stupidly. I can totally picture him doing it.)
> 
> Fic ideas and updates and fannish reblogs: [I AM A FANDOM NERD](http://echoislesfandom.tumblr.com/)  
> Random stuff and various screencaps: [Echo Isles caps and junk](http://echoisles.tumblr.com/)


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